


Muse

by leeyanatasya



Category: Day6 (Band)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Closure, F/M, Feels, Goodbyes, Heartbreak, Heavy Angst, Moving On, Muses, Sad
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-02
Updated: 2019-12-04
Packaged: 2020-04-06 11:27:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 15,071
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19061716
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leeyanatasya/pseuds/leeyanatasya
Summary: Kang Brian hasn't been hit with a lightning of inspiration in months since missing his muse.Then she comes back one night to help him with one last song - before leaving him forever.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This book may contain some heavy themes. Please proceed with caution.

It wasn’t the composition so much as the lyrics. They were the ones he could no longer conceive. 

The music in itself came as easy to him as it always did; the composition of his complex bass lines that acted as a bridge that connected the other instruments together to concoct a masterpiece had never faltered, and he believed it was due to the musical integrity of his members; their individual sense of creativity overwhelmed every writing session, and while at times prior he would find it frustrating having to decide on which idea fit best, he was now simply grateful for the continuous bouts of new ideas; it meant he was not obligated to provide his own, and could simply trail close behind the other members, fitting his bass lines into their original composition; it was a good enough mask to disguise his true fear, but everyone could spot its true form underneath. 

He could no longer put words together. And that fact in itself scared him senseless. 

He’d tried to write – truly, he tried so fucking hard to write – but the words never came. At least, not in the way he wished for them to. Every word he scribbled on paper, every lyric he conceived throughout his sessions would end up in a pile by the end of the day, discarded and paid dust as they simply just weren’t good enough. He’d spent hours – he’d spent days – cooped up in the studio, doing nothing but writing, telling himself to stop throwing out every bad idea that comes, but it’s always left to little avail. He can’t allow himself to continue on with a draft if he shows no liking to it, and for the past few months, all he did was loathe every single word. They meant nothing to him – they struck no chord, conjured no emotion, created no significance. His words were simply words, and he could perceive them as nothing more. 

His lyrics embodied an empty shell without a soul. It wasn’t hard to figure out why, though others seemed persistent to have him concede to it out loud. 

“Is it her? Do you not have any shred of creativity now that she’s gone? Shouldn’t the heartache help you write better? Kang Brian, get over yourself.”

His producer had failed to stop repeating the words like a mantra, reprimanding him every time he was unsuccessful in showing him new material by the end of the month. Truthfully, he paid little attention to what the former had to say; if it weren’t for the fact that they remained in a permanent cycle, he would more than likely not even remember the words said. When anyone else, including his own bandmates, brought the topic of her up, he would simply tune them out, playing his own melody in his mind until they would shut the hell up. By then, he would grimly nod and act like he gave a shit about what they had to say – yet another mask to disguise how he felt, but this one seemed to be working better than the other. 

He didn’t exactly have the want to talk about losing his muse out loud, not when the thought of her left him the way it did. Most musicians experience heartache so great they articulate their emotions on paper, creating masterpieces so intense the adrenaline and hurt passes through them every time the song’s performed; a pain that continuously tortures even with the years passed by. It was a form of catharsis, really, one that was better than any form of therapy could give; when he had been hurt by others around him in the past, he’d been just like the rest of them. He took his pain and put it into words, not letting it out into the open. It was just better that way; he could hone his craft and still find a sense of release without having to deal with being vulnerable and a crying fit – it was a win-win situation. It was the way things should work. 

At least, that’s what she told him. On the first day they met; the first song writing session he’d ever had.

“We’re musicians. When we’re in pain, we write it down – we don’t talk about it.”

“That – that’s not healthy.”

“It’s just what we’re meant to do.”

When he first heard those words, Brian had been sceptical – he knew there had to be so many words left unsaid by never expressing any feelings out loud – the kind of words that could eat people alive. But he’d heard her songs, and he’d heard of her – she was talent embodied into a single soul, and she was the most incredible person he’d ever met. 

When Kang Brian first met her, he’d been awed. She was the kind of person he thought existed only in stories – the kind that seems too good to be true, a mixture of beauty and talent and personality that can only be envied, a dream that could never be real. 

She was the kind of girl people wrote songs about. And so he turned her into his muse. 

At first, everything seemed just right; as the sessions progressed, they grew closer, and the songs grew more and more clear to be of and for her; by the time they were together, she’d become the only centre of his music, the only one he wanted to write about, because any other form of lyrics he could create just weren’t good enough. She was the only story he wanted to put on paper. She was the only lightning of inspiration that could strike him at any given moment. She was his muse. There was simply no point in even trying to write about anything else.

So when she walked out the door, she took all his words with her. 

Instead of leaving him with heartache so great he could articulate the emotions on paper, she left him hollow; from the day she left in search of a better path, he’d been unable to concoct, unable to express, unable to feel. He was left with nothing. No muse, no heartache – just he himself, and the sheer frustration of having the worst writer’s block in existence. 

And that fact itself scared his producer senseless. 

Which was why, almost a year after Brian had broken up with his muse, he decided that enough was enough; the boy refused to talk about his feelings, and he was unable to even conjure them in his lyrics; it had been a year since his name was credited as a lyricist for the band, and while the other members were able to make up for the stagnancy of his ideas, the loss of his lyrics was still a genuine blow; he had a gift, one that shouldn’t go to waste simply because he’d lost the girl of his dreams. He just needed to find release – a sense of closure that could give him back the words he’d lost. 

The only way to take back words lost would be to demand them from the one who had stolen them in the fist place. 

It took two, three rings for her to finally pick up the producer’s call. It was the middle of the night, and the music studio he sat in appeared soulless, pitch black with the exception of the light emitting from the screen of his phone. His eyes wandered around the room as he placed the phone against his ear, before landing on the dozens of crumpled paper that accumulated in the trash; all the thoughts Brian had tried to turn into masterpieces, incredibly diverse in their own right, ranging from romance to friendships to even his own struggles, but none of it could ever add up. 

He knew Brian would hate him for this. He knew this could possibly lead to an even worse outcome than what they already had. But her voice ringing in his ear as she greeted him just assured him this was what had to be done. 

“Hello?”

“Hey, it’s me. Yes, it has been a while; congratulations on your engagement, by the way. But that’s not why I’m calling – we need to talk.”


	2. Chapter 2

The night would be dead silent if it weren’t for the sound of a hammering heart. 

The continuous thumping in his chest was deafening, ringing in his ears as he lay back in his chair; he placed an arm over his eyes, keeping them closed but taking a peek every now and then to glance at the clock on the wall, minute hand ticking to the rhythm of his heartbeat. 

He didn’t want this; fuck, he didn’t want this. 

He was getting along just fine; albeit unable to conjure a shred of emotion and talent to his name, he was doing well. At the very least, he was doing better than he thought he would be. He was hollow, he could barely feel, but it was better. 

He’d rather feel nothing at all than deal with the pain. 

But having her come over was a potential calamity – a possibly disastrous end to his months of living without emotion; he’d spent almost an entire year in presumed tranquil, pushing his past to the back of his mind as he tried to move forward with a remaining void inside. He focused all his energy on writing, because that’s what he’s meant to do, and while not being able to put together words would frustrate him, it kept him distracted. It kept all the memories buried and under lock and key. Despite what others tried to tell him, he believed the words would come to him soon even without catharsis, and he didn’t need closure in order to properly move forward. It would all fade away with time.

In hindsight, he realised it was futile. Because it’d been almost a year, and she has never been someone to easily forget. 

In order to take his words back, he needed closure; the kind that kept the door permanently shut and locked; the kind he dreaded having to find. He needed this. He knew he needed this. Everyone around him pressured him into doing this. When his producer first broke the news to him, he’d thrown a fit, refusing to ever step foot in the studio again – how dare his hyung decide what was best for him? How dare he decide that throwing Brian into a tornado of his own misery would be the only way he could move on? How dare he decide that his talent was more important than the safety of his own heart?

If it hadn’t been for his members, profusely pleading for him to go through with the single night of torment, Kang Brian would have never given it another thought. But they were persistent, trying so hard to convince him it was the right step to take. 

“We miss your words, Brian. Bring them back to us.”

Brian felt bad, but he also felt worse for himself. He didn’t want to see her – he couldn’t fucking see her. Seeing her would just make him realise all the things he’d lost, and could never get back. Regret was an emotion he seldom felt before her, only having been properly introduced once in his lifetime, during the moment she walked away. 

It had been a horrible emotion to feel; he kept it buried, deciding that once was more than enough, that he would never voluntarily deal with such distraught again.

He had a choice to make – to make the band happy, or to keep himself at peace. From a third-person’s perspective, the decision was obvious. Although the outcomes were unpredictable, it could almost be considered a win-win situation if they turned out to be positive; if the producer’s intents could be met, then the band would have their favourite songwriter back, and he’d be able to let her walk out the door and into another’s arms. 

But Brian wasn’t ready to let her go. He didn’t want to be ready to let her go. 

It was an excruciating contemplation, but there ever only was one decision; his band, his song-writing career, his ability to feel were all on the line; this wasn’t just about him – he couldn’t make the decision just for him. No matter how much he wanted to. 

He’d agreed to see her. He’d agreed to face the consequences. He’d agreed to risk feeling pain over nothing at all. 

Now he sat in the studio, waiting for her to arrive, the minute hand ticking by slower than the rhythm of his heartbeat. 

A knock came at the door as the clock stroke midnight. Brian could feel his heart stop beating. The silence still remained deafening. 

“Brian? You in here?”

The door opened to reveal his producer, standing tall and firm as he rested his hand against the knob; light from the hall penetrated the studio and shone on the lone boy who’d been sitting in the dark, causing him to groan and rub his eyes from the sudden brightness. 

“Open the door slowly next time.” He groaned, turning his chair back to face away from the door, rubbing his eyes as he tried to adjust to the light.

“Well, that’s one way to greet an old friend.”

The sound of a voice that he hadn’t heard in months played in his ears, causing his heart to drop to his stomach. The words rung in his head like a lovely tune; a kind of song he never had, and never could get tired of. Beautiful masterpieces had been lost on him for so long, he’d almost forgotten what the most beautiful one in the world sounded like. He remembered now. 

It was her song. It was her voice. It was her. 

She was music he could forever listen to, had he not been stripped of such a privilege. The thought made his heart crack. 

When in pain, write it down. Don’t talk about it. 

Brian breathed in. If there was one person who could help him write down his pain, it was the muse standing at his door. 

He opened his eyes, and turned his chair back. 

“Hi, Younghyun.”


	3. Chapter 3

Brian can’t remember the last time someone had called him Younghyun.

The name hadn’t left his lips in so long that it had almost sounded unfamiliar on hers; during the times prior to her, he’d only ever been addressed by the name he’d chosen for his life halfway across the globe, and he’d never thought to consider abandoning the new name when he moved back to Korea. In his trainee days and beyond, the people around him would address him by his stage name, or simply as “Brian.” There really was no need for there to be a third option. 

But the day he first met her was the day he reconciled with the name that had been long forgotten; she entered the studio with such nonchalance, not bothering to even knock on the door – a habit he tried hard to persuade her to break, though her excuse would always be that doors kept unlocked meant there was nothing to be hidden, so there was truly no reason for the act – and plopped herself down in front of Brian without so much as a word, causing him to stumble back in surprise. He hadn’t even noticed when she’d walked in; he’d been too busy losing himself in his lyrics, writing down the words he thought sounded best. When Brian had jolted in his seat, she had taken the chance to swipe his notes away from him and scan through the lyrics, before turning back to him with an intrigued expression across her features. 

“Your words are good.”

Brian had heard compliments for his work from strangers before; hearing it from another person should be nothing new. But he couldn’t help the way his heart tugged its strings as she spoke to him for the first time. 

The sound of her voice resonated the entire room from the moment words left her lips, carrying a single tune Brian was foreign with; her voice was unique, distinctly deeper than most yet still soothing to his ears in a way Brian found inexplicable. It was captivating, luring him in – and he’d only just met this girl mere seconds ago. Trying to undermine the feeling he couldn’t quite perceive, Brian quickly snatched the paper away from her hands, refusing to meet the girl’s gaze as he kept his head down. “Thanks – but, who are you?”

“Didn’t they tell you? I’m the songwriter you’re working with.” The smirk on her face grew with amusement as Brian fidgeted in his seat, obviously embarrassed by her presence. She wasn’t surprised – she’d dealt with plenty strangers who couldn’t meet her gaze. It was nothing new, truly. 

“I heard you’re your band’s lyricist,” she mused, standing to her feet; Brian slightly lifted his gaze as she turned her back to him to take in the small space, her voice still ringing like a melody in his ears. 

“Actually, the others write lyrics as well – we each get to meet with different songwriters.”

“Well then, guess you got lucky.” She winked, and Brian swore he felt his heart thunder inside him. 

Calm the fuck down; you don’t even know her name. 

“You haven’t exactly answered my – “

“All jokes aside, I am really flattered to be working with you, Younghyun.” She grinned, the name rolling off her tongue with such ease, such nonchalance that Brian almost didn’t realise it. Almost. “The producers actually talk about how talented you are all the damn time. They say you’ve got a really spectacular gift that deserves to be honed; one that would be criminal to not share with the rest of the world. Honestly? I was sceptical. I figured it was just their way of trying to get me to agree to work with you. Though, judging by your notes, I might have been to quick to judge.”

Brian opened his mouth to try and get a word in, but the girl in front of him winked again, and suddenly he was unable to function properly; his mouth was left momentarily agape as he remained stunned, and she raised an eyebrow at him in bewilderment. 

“Cat got your tongue, Younghyun?”

At the mention of an old name, Brian snapped back to reality, shaking his head vigorously before finally meeting the gaze of the woman before him. She smiled delicately as his eyes found hers, perhaps in hopes that he would find her less intimidating. 

But he wasn’t intimidated. She had a strong personality, he couldn’t deny, but he didn’t find her intimidating because of it. He was simply stunned – mainly from the melody that kept repeating in his ears that sounded distinctly deeper than most; soothing in a sense he couldn’t explain, captivating him more and more as he continues to listen. 

Also, it was the name.

“It’s – you can call me Brian.”

“Why? Don’t like being called Younghyun?”

“No, it’s not like that – I mean, it’s my name – but just, most people call me Brian.”

“Huh. So, do I have to be like most people?” 

It was truly astonishing how unfazed this girl was with the words she said. It was a simple question, not one he should read into; but Brian’s cheeks flushed at her question, reddening as he averted his gaze back downwards. 

“I guess not.”

“Then can I call you Younghyun? I like the way it rolls off my tongue.”

Yeah, I can tell. 

“I – I guess there’s no reason you can’t,” he conceded, and she smiled with that same delicacy, walking back in his direction; she sat herself down on the chair next to him and picked his notepad off the small table in the centre of the room, leaning back as she flipped through the pages. 

“Do you have more works that can surprise me? I’m very hard to please,” she stated, turning the chair to face the rookie songwriter. The handles of their chairs were directly in contact with one another; as she leaned forward again to peer her eyes at him, the proximity grew incredibly close, and Brian felt the thundering in his chest again. 

“I – I’ve got a few songs that will be reviewed by the producers this week. If you want to take a look at those.” He gulped, refusing to acknowledge the electricity that shot through his spine as she gazed at him with such intensity. The girl smirked, clearly amused by his reactions, before slightly moving her chair back to allow some space between them.

Brian wasn’t sure if she was virtuous or obscenely depraved. Perhaps morally ambiguous could describe her best. 

“No, I don’t want to steal your thunder for the songs you’ve already finished writing; those are good on their own. I’m here to help you create better ones,” she responded, clicking her tongue to the rhythm of her fingers tapping against the chair handle. “You know what? Let’s put that aside for a second; if we’re going to work together, I want to know what kind of songs you like writing about – just to see just how well we’ll be able to work off each other.”

“I sort of just write whatever comes to mind – love mostly, I guess.”

“As all musicians do. Romance or heartbreak?”

“What?”

“Which inspiration strikes you best? What do you like putting on paper more?”

“I don’t know. Heartbreak more often that not, probably. I sort of just write what I feel.”

Her grin grew wider, eyes widening with delight at his words; he couldn’t understand why, but the beauty of her smile didn’t go unnoticed. 

“So you keep your feelings pent up and write them down? Guess we have more in common than I thought – no wonder they kept saying you’re crazy talented.”

“I don’t necessarily keep my emotions pent up. I do talk about my feelings; writing is just another platform to express better.”

“Well, that’s not right.”

“What?” He furrowed his eyebrows at the girl before him, who shrugged as if she’d just made perfect sense. She tucked her hand into the pocket of her jacket before taking out a pen, scribbling words onto a blank page of the notepad she’d taken prior. Brian dragged his chair closer, trying to see what the hell she was writing on his notes. 

“Hey, what are you – “

“We’re musicians. When we’re in pain, we write it down – we don’t talk about it.”

She reached over and showed him the words she’d written; it was the exact advice she was giving him in bold, capital letters. Brian averted his gaze from the page to her, gradually realising the close proximity between them again. In a flash, he pulled his chair back, yet again ignoring the electrical sensation. 

“That – that’s not healthy,” he replied, shaking his head at the mere idea of it all; never verbally letting your emotions come undone? Never expressing how you feel in situations beyond your control? Merely entertaining the thought was explicably toxic, yet she was telling him it was the role of a musician – as if it were part of a package deal. 

“It’s just what we’re meant to do.” She sighed, placing her elbow on the handle of the chair, before lifting her chin down onto the palm of her hand. “You don’t have to agree with me, Younghyun. But I can assure you – the words you put on paper hold a certain beauty when they’ve been left unsaid.”

Brian didn’t know how to respond. He couldn’t even if he wanted to; the girl left him a clutter of bewilderment and intrigued, curiosity creeping up on him with every word she spoke, every note she sang. The tune still remained in the back of his mind even in the sudden presence of silence, as she stared him down while she waited for his response. She didn’t get it – instead, he cleared his throat and moved his chair even further back, glancing towards the clock on the wall to see just how much longer he needed to sit in this room. 

He wasn’t intimidated, but he was no longer stunned. He didn’t know exactly how he felt, but he was borderline uncomfortable. This girl was messing with his head, and she hadn’t even told him her name yet. 

“Can – can we just get to work?” His attempt at changing the topic didn’t go unnoticed as he evaded her gaze yet again, but she decided it was best to leave the tension in the air; addressing it would perhaps make the poor boy feel even more awkward than he already did, and she silently cursed herself for always being the one to conjure elephants into the room. Kang Younghyun seemed to be a sweet kid; he’d been into music since childhood, he’d spent most of his teenage years in another country, he moved back to his homeland which was halfway across the world from his parents just to pursue his dreams; from his background alone, she could tell he was hardworking and driven. Plus, according to the producers, exceptionally talented. Also a big plus, he was around her age and endearingly cute. 

She’d been holding onto the last thought since she first walked into the studio. It was the sole thought she kept pushing to the back of her mind to prevent anymore tension than what she’d already concocted. 

“Yeah, let’s do that,” she said. “Could you lend me your guitar for a second? There’s a tune that’s been stuck in my head the whole day and it’s driving me insane – maybe you could give it a listen and tell me what you think?”

Brian didn’t say a word. Instead, he got up from his seat to grab his guitar out of its case; a black beauty that remained his baby since his days in Canada, it was his go-to instrument when it came to creative compositions. Her eyes glistened at the sight of it, clearly awestruck as well as she delicately grabbed the instrument from his hands and placed it on her lap. 

“Pretty,” she acknowledged, yet Brian still remained quiet. She wasn’t sure if he would be like this throughout the whole session, but if he insisted on maintaining his silence even when they were meant to be in a professional environment, then they weren’t going to work as well together as she deemed. 

“Look Younghyun, I didn’t mean – “ 

A phone ringing interrupted the flow of her words; she glanced down at the device vibrating in her pocket, cheeks flushed as she realised the source of the intrusion. “Sorry.” 

Hastily, she took out the phone and answered the call, covering her mouth as she whispered into the phone, though with their distance barely inches apart, her words still remained audible to the only other person in the room. 

“Hey, Finn. I’m sorry, I’m in a session – I’ll call you back later.”

She hung up the call with a swift motion, ensuring to turn her phone off before placing the device back in her pocket. “Sorry about that. Like I was saying – “

“We have a no-phone policy in the studio.”

“Right. Again, incredibly sorry – I won’t let it happen again.” She smiled, the hint of delicacy still evident, such a contrast to the bold personality she portrayed; over time, over these sessions, Kang Brian would come to discover just how delicate the girl in front of him could truly be – but in that moment, all he could think of in his mind was the one question he couldn’t help but blurt out. 

“Who is Finn?”

For the first time since she’d walked through the door, it was her turn to be physically stunned; her eyes widened at his question, not expecting such a blunt inquiry from the boy who could barely meet her gaze, even up until then. 

“Finn is my friend,” she answered, raising an eyebrow with intrigue. “I’m surprised you’re so curious.

“I’m not,” he retorted, perhaps a little too quickly. Brian’s cheeks flushed as he sunk into his seat. As amused as she always seemed to he at his reactions, the girl laughed; a sound electrifying the entire room he swore he felt the hairs on his skin tingle. He brushed it off without another thought, just as he had the shots of electricity; it would be fine to do so for now, but sooner rather than later they’d grow harder and harder to ignore.

The soft sound of her voice in his mind was already captivating him as it was, and he hadn’t even found out her bloody name. Brian may be an expert with love songs, but he was far from being knowledgeable in romance – though, it didn’t take a person with half a brain to realise he was in dangerous territory. One fatal move, and he could fall so damn easily. Of course, there was no need to admit that to himself. All he needed right there and then was a name. 

“How – how do I even know you’re actually the songwriter I’m supposed to meet with?” he asked, a sudden change in topic that made the smirk reappear on her lips. “You could have just been feeding me bullshit this whole time.”

That would explain the refusal to articulation theory. Perhaps she wasn’t even supposed to be here. 

“You mean aside from the fact that I came here at the exact time our appointment’s supposed to be and I know your name is Younghyun? Well, don’t I just appear to ooze talent?” she joked, giving him a wink for the third time that day. Brian didn’t react. 

“Why won’t you tell me your name?” he asked, peering his eyes at the girl who began to softly strum the strings of his guitar; her very being seemed to send sparks flying across the room; a presence so electrifying he was surprised the damn wiring in the studio had yet to malfunction. 

Who exactly was this girl? 

“I just like to make people sweat, I guess,” she answered. He couldn’t tell if it was a joke or not this time around. “I’ll tell you by the end of this session, don’t worry. Please just humour me; I like keeping people on their toes.”

And messing with their heads. 

“Alright.” He sighed, figuring there was no point in taking up anymore time; they should have started working long ago, and he needed to stop wasting more time if he was going to make it to band practice afterwards. “But I have to call you something.”

“I guess.” She stayed silent momentarily, considering his words. He wanted to tell her to get the whole damn game she alone wanted to play over with and just tell him her bloody name, but she had interrupted him before he could do so.

“For now.. let’s just declare me as your muse,” she replied, continuing to delicately strum his guitar. “Yeah, that works.”

“How – how are you my muse?” he stuttered, furrowing his eyebrows as he lifted his head upwards. He quite literally could not even begin to guess the meaning behind any of her words. 

“I’m not. But my music will be.” She met his gaze before he could even react, then winked at him with so much ease, so much nonchalance. It was truly astonishing how unfazed this girl was with the words she said.

A shot ran through his spine in the electrically enhanced room. 

“Just play me the tune.”


	4. Chapter 4

She turned on the lights before Brian could say a word. 

The newly lit room was always a secluded space; Brian’s solace from his dorm that he had mainly to himself, with the exception of the rotating producers he’d worked with over the years – with the exception of her, who would meet him in this very room in the middle of the night, be it for the purpose of writing or other acts best kept hidden with the dark. Back in his happiest days with her in his arms, she would mention how the small room was undoubtedly comfortable, yet she believed he should be given a bigger space as a reward for all those masterpieces he’d created for his band and other artists; Brian would tell her he was happy with what he had, that everything in his life at that moment in time was exactly his epitome of happiness. She’d tell him he still deserved better, before letting him kiss her until dawn broke. Once she’d left to the start of a new day, he would write a song about the night prior in that very place she criticised. 

He claimed to her that he was happy with what he had, but he never properly expressed why; he never told her that her sheer electrifying presence that lingered in the room struck his creativity like bolts of lightning; he never told her that the sparks flying through the air within the confined space was his biggest source for solace, a loving sense of familiarity that shot through him as he spent hours doing what he did best. In those ways and beyond, she’d made the studio exactly what it should be for him – a safe space to put his thoughts on paper, to put down the pain she insisted they keep hidden for the sake of their art. The room in itself held a plethora of words for him to string together, and it was all because of her. 

Now the room that was once bustling with electricity remained silent in the wake of a longing absence of a delicate soul. He hadn’t felt the jolts of electricity in a while, he’d forgotten how he thrived off of them.

Having her step foot into the room again, however, after almost a year of such a strong absence, made that familiar shock come back to him in a flash; the lights somehow appeared brighter than they ever had as his surroundings pulsed with the energy she brought into the confined space, jolting him awake to the reality that she was here – right here, in his very presence.

It took her just being there for a shot to run down his spine. 

Brian had always been comfortable with his small studio; but he’d never felt as suffocated as he did then, with static causing him to internally convulse as she peered her eyes at him, taking another step forward. He pushed his chair back and away from her – even though metres apart, she was still too close for comfort. 

His heart thundered in his chest as the realisation of having to be in such close proximity after so long dawned on him. The most beautiful sound in the world played like a soft melody in his ears. 

Fuck, he hated this. 

“It’s been a while.” 

Brian gulped, not knowing how he should respond; her usual sense of nonchalance continued to remain, even with the heavy tension in the room; like the sparks that came with her presence, that damn nonchalant facade was almost impenetrable. He hated it. 

Brian didn’t say a word; instead, he turned towards the bemused witness of their encounter standing at the door, his body leaning against the frame as he chuckled to himself with amusement. Truthfully, his producer could try and mask this as an attempt to help him find his words, but he couldn’t deny that he simply just enjoyed seeing the two together. He was, of course, the one who had snitched on Brian in the first place, telling his muse about the little crush that Brian had been harbouring for months. When they’d officially started dating, his producer had been the most excited out of everyone else, claiming that the music they could create together now would be more poetic than the ones prior; the kind of music that could dominate the country and win the hearts of the public. He never stopped joking about how much Brian owed him for setting them up together, and he never stopped insisting that he’d never seen the two happier than they were in each other’s arms. Perhaps he was right – if he hadn’t been so, so wrong. 

When they first broke up, she had been the one who left, but it was Brian who had to break the news; when his producer first found out, he had accepted the breakup rather calmly, though Brian could tell he was more than upset – he was devastated. For whatever reason, he liked the idea of Brian and his muse together; maybe it was due to the incredibly masterpieces they concocted, maybe it was a bigger picture Brian couldn’t see. Either way, it was too late to find out at this point in time. 

There was no possible way they could be together now. 

Even so, that didn’t stop his producer from standing at the door and taking in the sight of two of the best writers he’d known, wondering what could have been. 

“Are you going to join us?” The hope in Brian’s voice as he asked the question made the only girl in the room’s heart sting, though she brushed it off without much thought. It’s not as if she reserved the right too feel offended in the first place. 

“Of course not,” the man at the door answered, flashing a smirk as his eyes wandered between the two. “That would beat the purpose of this, don’t you think?”

“How long do we have to be here?” There was desperation in his tone now, glancing his eyes towards the clock as he read the time: just a little after midnight. 

It was around this time itself that she would visit him to create the secrets best kept in the dark. 

“You have me for the whole night, Younghyun,” she declared, stepping sideways to reach for the chair adjacent to his. “If you wish to kick me out before then, I can’t stop you.”

“No one’s getting kicked out until I get a song,” his producer warned, a smirk growing on his lips. “And it better be a fucking good one at that.”

His muse sat down on the chair and pulled it closer to his, until the handles of their chairs were brushing against each other. Brian couldn’t move; she placed her elbow on the handle and cupped her chin in the palm of her hand, leaning towards him. She was in such close proximity that he’d almost forgotten how to breathe; she might as well have ripped his heart out of his chest by that point. 

He tried to drag his chair further back; she clutched onto his handle, not daring him to move. 

He turned his head towards her in protest, wanting to groan in replacement of words – when he looked down, and saw the diamond ring fitted perfectly on her finger. 

His heart needed no help in being ripped out; it had already leaped out of his chest and crashed to the floor in smithereens. 

“Trust me, with this combination,” she spoke with reassurance in her tone, one that was slightly shaking from her own doubts in her words. She pointed her finger between them, keeping her eyes in his direction in an attempt to meet his gaze; he kept his eyes on the man at the door. “This combination is undefeatable. Nothing could possibly get in our way – not when it comes to music. Right, Younghyun?”

She cleared her throat as an indication for him to agree with her, but Brian wasn’t sure if he could bring himself to say such a direct lie, not in present company that still remained partially in the dark. It wouldn’t be fair to make such a claim when they both knew the bitter truth. 

Because they weren’t undefeatable. Not in the way he used to believe. And music would always be their biggest enemy. 

Brian stayed silent. 

The momentary silence created a larger tension in the room that neither felt comfortable enough to break. Instead, it was their witness that cleared his throat and stood up straight, seemingly wanting to get away from the situation he was previously bemused by. 

“I should go,” Brian’s producer whispered; he didn’t keep his eyes off of Brian, expression laced with worry as it finally crossed his mind just how difficult it would be for the hollowed boy to survive the night. Instead of being glad for a little empathy, Brian believed he was just being pure hypocritical – he was the one who initiated the idea, he shouldn’t be allowed to feel concerned. 

He’d thrown Brian into the storm, and the latter now had to deal with the pouring rain on his own. 

The door shut behind him in one swift, yet thundering motion. Brian could hear the music in his head come to a pause. For the first time since she’d left, they were truly alone. Together. In a place that sung with the memories of their past. 

If he could ask the earth to swallow him whole, he’d already be six feet under.


	5. Chapter 5

“Well, this isn’t incredibly awkward.”

Her voice next to him made the boy without words flinch; it brought him back to the reality that they were still in very close proximity, with her sparks still flying into him, and her voice suddenly replaying in his ears. 

And the ring still shining bright underneath the white lights. 

Refusing to even glance at it again, Brian got up from his seat and moved towards the other side of the room, sitting himself down in front of the keyboard, his back facing her. They spent a good moment in silence, neither uttering another word; perhaps she expected him to respond, perhaps he’d decided he would suppress any shred of desire for doing so, not wanting to utter a word to the girl staring him down, still too close for comfort even with the distance between them.

He didn’t want to say a word; he couldn’t say a word. Not when it would lead to the inevitable he was so desperately trying to evade. 

Instead, Kang Younghyun sorted out the music sheets that had been scattered across the keys, and scanned through them in a desperate attempt to prove as if her very presence didn’t disturb him in the slightest, and that her being there didn’t make him want to fall to his knees and tell her just how much he’s missed her. 

Because he has. He truly has. It was already agonising to admit it to himself; admitting it to the very source would be a danger zone his heart wasn’t prepared to cross. Not just yet. Not until he could, somewhere along the line, acknowledge the big, bright diamond that refused to leave his line of sight even with his back faced towards her. 

So he stayed put in his seat as the silence daunted him, trying to fit in words to match the composition of the band’s latest concoction, though his pen remained unattached to the notepad he’d kept adjacent to the notes. He scribbled a sentence out to try and work his way from there, but ended up crossing it out in a matter of seconds. Just like how he’d been doing for the past few months. 

Think, Brian. Think. 

He could tell himself to wreck his brain all he wanted; it didn’t change the fact that no words would possibly be poured out when all his emotions had been long buried within him. Forcing himself to think was a futile attempt; lyrics came with feelings, feelings he no longer had. Not since the very girl in the room, whose footsteps he could hear approaching, had made him keep them buried from the first day they’d met. 

Feel, Brian. Feel. As if he would ever tell himself that ever again. 

The sudden static from behind him was an alert to her presence, and with his breath hitched in his throat, Brian bent forward, wanting to focus on the notes in front of him – 

When she snatched them from his hand and scanned through the work. 

Brian remained stagnant, as if time and movement and every thought running through his mind has come to a halt; there was nothing but the buzz of electricity and the pounding voice in his ears, causing his breath to go wretched and his hand to almost become numb at the mere contact. 

When she made a grab for the note, her hand had directly been in contact with his. The static that came was emulsifying, rendering him nearly unable to even keep his head high and maintain his vow of silence. As the clock stood still, the only other person in the room remained a constant movement, reaching her hand over the keys to play the notes on the piano. 

The sound of her hums as she trailed the keys pierced through his skin and cut him open, causing him to jolt back to his senses; the composition being played as her voice rang in his ears slowly shock-intensified the room, and Brian could feel the hairs on the back of his neck rise with the palpable tension in the room. It was hot, daunting, a whirlwind of everything happening in movement and not happening with a pause in time. Kang Brian was suffocating, too many things triggering his past happening at once. Her close proximity; the jolts of unwanted sparks; the most beautiful sound in the world. 

The ring that appeared in his vision as she continued to let the music come to life.

Suddenly the previous stagnancy appeared to be heaven on earth, because then everything around him couldn’t stop spinning; from the room to the damn ring to all the emotions wanting to be released out of him, to be free of the prison he’d forced them into. Everything, everything, seemed to move faster than the clock ticking by; with each passing second came the sound of an even faster heartbeat, almost ready to be ripped out of its chest and smashed to smithereens. 

Stop it, Brian. Stop it. 

Stop it he did. 

Before Brian could tell himself otherwise, before he could find a simpler way to deal with the ache instead of piling more on top of his own, before he could just simply have fucking waited for her to move away –

Brian grabbed her hand in his, stopping the sound that filled the room, yet letting the electricity multiply under her surprised expression.

The ring was suddenly not only in full view, but so much closer to his hold than he needed it to be; his hand wrapped around her fingers, thumb slightly grazing over the stone as the owner stared down at him, eyes widened and mouth gaping open. 

If Brian were to get down on one knee, it would appear as if he were the one proposing. 

He let her hand go the moment the thought ran through his mind, as if he were at risk of being electrocuted. 

“Well, this isn’t incredibly awkward.”

“You know you’re not here to write a song.”

And there they were, out in the world in a matter of minutes, despite the perseverance and sheer need to maintain his vow of silence; the first words Kang Brian said to the love of his life in months, after she broke his heart and left him behind. He was a goner now, he knew, and he could never go back if he wanted to.

No more denying. No more unspoken vulnerability. No more of the words left unsaid. No more of the secrets best kept in the dark. 

All that was left was him, and his muse. 

“We’re – we’re here to talk. About you, about me, about him – about us.”


	6. Chapter 6

It was almost a year ago that Kang Brian had been at the peak of his musical ability. 

The band as a whole was doing immensely well than ever before, having made it into the charts for their most recent album and being acknowledged for the quality and cohesiveness by both critics and other artists alike. They were slowly becoming a priority within their company, finally getting the proper promotions and endeavours they deserved. And Brian was filled with nothing but pride and joy from it. 

There were a number of factors he could contribute to the outstanding chart rankings and critical acclaims they were receiving – he had matured with his lyrics, the band was bolder with experimenting, the nation had just come to realise the remarkable talent they always possessed – and while all these should be taken into account and given the acknowledgment they deserve, Brian only truly cared about one. 

Her.

She was his partner for most of his song-writing sessions, staying up nights to help him perfect his songs; they worked on both the composition and lyrics together, just the two of them, and Brian would present his work to his members in its rough drafts, allowing them the chance to put their own twist and creativity into each masterpiece. But the core of it all was always her: she gave him the inspiration he never knew he didn’t have, the ideas he never knew he drastically lacked, the sense of passion that had barely been scrapped of the surface until she came around. She made him braver with experimenting, cleverer with his words; the girl was a gift that kept on giving. And she put him on a pedestal he knew he didn’t deserve. 

When Brian had first found out about his chart rankings, the first person he’d run to was her; it wasn’t incredibly difficult, considering that she was in the same room as him, but recognising that would make the whole news-breaking appear a little less romantic. 

She was lying on the couch in the small studio, legs sprawled against Brian’s thighs as he was hunched over on his phone, waiting for the clock to strike midnight. 

“Since your album was released today, I thought you guys would be bent over your instruments practising right now,” she spoke, playing with her fingers as she watched Brian intently stare at the brightly lit screen in the dimly lit room; if she reached over slightly, she could squeeze his nose and annoy the hell out of him for making him lose focus, but she knew better than to do so right then. Especially when she swore she could hear the boy’s rapid heartbeat that was faster than the ticking clock.

“Practice ended early so we could get enough rest before the music show in two days,” Brian mumbled, clearly not paying that much attention to her, or her attempt to divert his attention away from his current state of restlessness. She sighed and lifted herself up from the couch, placing her chin on his shoulder. 

“Younghyun, I’m not going to hit pause on our writing process just so you can dwell over this. Just put the phone down, and let’s put that focus to good use, yeah?”

Brian turned his head and faced the songwriter, their proximity barely an inch apart; back then, this close of a proximity excited Brian more than terrified him, and he allowed silence to linger in the air before planting a kiss on her cheek. 

“You do what you want, Muse. But I don’t think I can continue anything until after midnight.”

“Fine then.” She huffed, lying herself back down on the couch. She grabbed his guitar that had been placed adjacent to the couch, plopping it onto her stomach. When she started strumming the melody they’d been working on, a bolt of lightning ran through Brian’s spine, causing the electricity to emulsify in the small space. And when she started singing, Brian’s attention was no longer on the screen of his phone.

Instead, he leaned his head back against the wall and watched her play, a small smile remaining on his lips as such sweet music rang through his ears, rendering him unable to focus on anything else but the very sound – the most beautiful sound in the world. The most beautiful sound he would ever hear. 

Like a bolt of lightning that appeared in the sky, she could captivate you with a sudden presence; and the sound that followed could thunder through your very being, rendering you alarmed, terrified, cautious of what was to come. 

It rendered Brian breathless.

It was quite dangerous, really – how compelling this girl in front of him was. She could try to convince him of anything, try to persuade him out of his own stubbornness, but he would never cave – not until she used her voice and her music, which never failed to dive him into an entrance he could never escape from. He never wanted to. Within a split second, his muse had gotten what she wanted – for his attention to be diverted, to be off his worries and centred around her voice, and the music playing, and nothing else but simply her. 

Brian hadn’t even noticed the clock striking midnight. Instead, he made an attempt to take the guitar into the hands of its rightful owner, and she handed it to him with little resistance; she grinned as he placed the guitar on his lap and bent over to stare at the music sheets on the table, pretending that his attention is back towards song writing and no longer on the girl next to him. 

Of course, she never did want to make things any easier for him – perhaps it was revenge for his initial stubbornness; payback for ignoring her persuasion, or perhaps it was just her being her and wanting to spite him for her own amusement, but as he tried to jot down and alter the song they were working on, she propped both her elbows on his shoulder and fluttered her eyes at him, yet again trying to divert his focus back to her. He ignored the antics and forced his full attention on the music, more so to see the aggravated look on her face than anything else. 

But then the girl just had to reach over and remove the glasses off the crook of his nose, before placing them on her own. He sighed in pretend exasperation, trying to bury the sense of amusement he was conjuring from seeing his muse wearing his glasses; she loved to do this, and she did it often, simply because she believed it annoyed him, when in fact all it did was cause his heart to thunder and static to course through his veins from the mere sight of her wearing something of his, even if it was a mere accessory. 

He leaned closer and stuck his tongue out at her. “I thought you said we needed to focus.”

She looked at him through the gap between her elbows, smiling ever so delicately at his expression. It was a facade; always was one. Trying to act sweet to make his heart soften with endearment. It always worked, but he’d never admit it. He didn’t need to anyway – she knew all too well that it did. 

“We should focus,” she agreed, wrapping her arms around his waist to tug him closer, until the tip of her nose brushed against his. “But kiss me first.”

Brian was torn between the comfort of her embrace and the electricity in the room that appeared in flashes before him. He felt his fingers tingling with an urge to put words on paper – to put her on paper, because that was the only way he could express everything he was feeling. Everything she was making him feel. 

Kang Brian knew he was falling in love with this girl. But she’d never let him admit that to her.

Brian whispered her name with an exaggerated sigh, turning back to the music sheets sprawled in front of them. He wanted to delay the inevitable, because just as she found it amusing to tease him, it was also incredibly fun to tease her. “We really need to get this done – “

“Kiss me.”

“Well, well, look who’s completely losing focus – “

“Just kiss me.” She pulled his face back towards her, waggling her eyebrows in a flirtatious manner and Brian laughed, before pulling her closer to crash his lips on hers – 

When the sound of his phone vibrated through the room, causing both of them to groan with frustration. 

“There’s always something..” Brian mumbled under his breath. He leaned forward anyway, wanting to ignore the text but she shook her head and pointed at his phone, a grin appearing so delicately on her features. 

“Take it. It’s what you’ve been waiting for.”

“What – “

“Just read the text, Younghyun.”

Giving the girl a confused look, Brian glanced down at his phone to find a text from his producer; he opened it and scanned through the paragraph, his eyes ultimately landing on the piece of news he’d been waiting so anxiously for. 

You’re in the Top 50. Congratulations.

“Holy shit,” Brian whispered, a wild grin spreading so wide until his cheeks; he was feeling so many emotions at once he could barely keep himself together. He leapt to his feet on the couch, checking the charts to make sure this wasn’t some sickening joke, that his producer hadn’t damn lied to him. 

It was real. It was goddamn real. 

“Holy shit.. holy shit..” 

The boy had descended onto cloud nine, practically squealing as he jumped on the couch, all the while being observed by a girl subtly moving his guitar to keep it out of harm’s way, afraid he might just destroy his own black beauty. She didn’t say a word as she witnessed him basking in his sudden glory, though a part of her was afraid he might just break the couch. 

Coming to his senses and spotting his muse with a slightly concerned look on her face, Brian kneeled back down on the couch, still grinning his head off as he pulled her towards him to relish in the close proximity yet again.

“Thank you,” he whispered, alternating his gaze between her eyes and her lips. 

She smirked at him, clicking her tongue in protest. “Don’t thank me. I didn’t do anything.”

“Don’t act like that. You helped us with most of the songs on the album. You helped build my inspiration. You brought me – you brought us here. We’re at our highest peak yet because you’re my muse.”

Her lips were beginning to look a little too appealing now. Brian caught his breath in his throat as he felt the words almost pour out of him. 

“You shouldn’t act like this is my achievement and not yours,” she breathed, reaching up to pinch his nose. “This is your and your band’s glory. Congratulations, Kang Younghyun. You deserve this.”

Her words lingered in the air as Brian responded with silence, staring at her with that look on his face he couldn’t conceal; his eyes wandered over her features, from the oh-so-delicate smile to the eyes that beamed at him, proud of his talent and proud of him. She was so, so goddamn beautiful that it hurt. It hurt because he wanted to say it. It hurt because he knew how she would react if he did. 

He reached for her hand and called out her name, never tearing his gaze away. “Muse, I think I – “

But she never let him finish. Maybe she knew what he was about to say; maybe she just got caught in the heat of the moment. Brian could never tell when it came to her; he could never tell what were her intentions, her motives. She was never one to be figured out. But as she pulled him by the collar of his shirt and crashed her lips onto his, Brian couldn’t care less. Again, his attention was diverted; nothing else remained in focus but her lips, and her kiss sending sparks flying through the room and into him, his skin buzzing with static to the point where his heart began to combust from the sensation. 

Everything about her was like lightning; everything about her lit him on fire, the kind that he never wanted extinguished. 

He loved her. He was so, so in love with her. 

But when she pulled away and placed her forehead against his, the look in her eyes and the words that quickly left her lips told him what he needed to hear. 

“Whatever you’re feeling; write about it. Don’t say it out loud.”

Her words were vague, even enigmatic; but Brian understood. She was telling him not to tell her. Not just yet. Perhaps not ever. 

He knew he could argue; he knew he could just let the words roll of his tongue and be proclaimed out into the world, but the risk that came with that just didn’t seem worth it. By saying what he wanted to, he could end up losing this moment – he could end up losing her. 

So Brian said nothing. Instead, he grabbed his glasses off her nose put them back on, poking his tongue out playfully in the process. He reached again for the black beauty and proceeded to write down his feelings, forgetting the pain of not being able to confess and instead embellishing in the moment right then, of joy and pride and being with the one he’d fallen for, doing what he loved most. She kept her hands wrapped around him as she watched him lose himself in the music, trying to ignore the ache from the vacant hole in her heart.

She was ignoring a lot of things, really. Like the dozens of messages from Finn coming in, wanting to know where the hell she was. He was worried, and apparently her parents were too. But she didn’t care. She was in the safest place she could be. Even if she would never allow herself to be fully captivated.

Because all happy and precious moments – moments like these – were temporary. They were the calm before the storm, because that’s what you get when you allow yourself to fall for thunder and lightning. 

It was almost a year ago that Kang Brian had been at the peak of his musical ability. It was also almost a year ago that he had been at the peak of his precious moments, as this moment in itself was one of the last bit of good news either of them would cherish together. All the moments that came after, was simply a product of the pouring rain coming to extinguish Brian’s flame.


	7. Chapter 7

Perhaps he regretted the words from the moment they were spoken. 

Truthfully, he expected himself to be stronger than this, having spent months honing the skill of keeping his words buried deep. He knew that seeing her would cause them to burst out into the open – he just never anticipated that it would be so soon. That he would give in so easily. It took the cultivation of everything in the moment to vanquish his hollowed armour and send shocks running through the body underneath, electrifying him and the locked heart he sought to protect. 

It took a matter of minutes. It took just a few ticks of the clock for his heart to be unlocked and poured out into the small room pulsing with static that he once found solace in. The electricity that could only be derived from a muse he could no longer work with; he could no longer have. Brian expected himself to be stronger, but he really shouldn’t have. 

He may have kept his heart locked and buried, but she was always the one who held the key. 

Perhaps he regretted the words from the moment they were spoken. But there was nothing he could do now; Pandora’s box had since been opened, and as he previously acknowledged, there was truly no going back. He had to face the inevitable, no matter how much he knew it would hurt. 

“Let’s talk,” he whispered, averting his gaze to the ground and taking another step back from the girl before him. He was at the risk of being electrocuted just mere seconds ago; he needed to keep an even bigger distance than before, even if it was just for his own safety. “There’s no point in prolonging this. I need my words back, and we both need to move on from this. So let’s just get it over with.”

Brian turned around and headed to the couch, taking a seat as he still kept his gaze to the floor; he waited for a buzz of electricity to come near him, to take her own seat at an appropriate distance and begin the conversation that they should have had months prior. Brian waited, but no static came. 

Brian lifted his gaze up when he heard the sound of keys playing. 

She remained rooted to the spot where he left her, her back facing him as she continued to play his melody on the keys; the absence of her humming doesn’t go unnoticed, and while it crossed his mind that she may be refraining herself from doing so for the sake of him, Brian tried not to give it a second thought. His world was slowly breaking free of its stagnancy, though the absence of the most beautiful sound in the world was keeping it moving at a pace slower than the ticking clock. Whether intentional or not, Brian was grateful that she wasn’t singing. He needed to be in a rational state of mind to be able to go through the rest of the night; he couldn’t possibly do that with her voice captivating his every thought. 

But he also needed her to be willing to have a conversation. From the looks of it, she wasn’t intending to do just so. 

He called her name out slowly, wanting to draw her attention to him; she kept her focus on the keys, hearing him yet choosing to ignore him all the same, just as she always did when they were together back then. It was frustrating when she was this stubborn, and he hated himself back then for how much he would find the act endearing. He called her name out again, much louder this time, yet she still refused to acknowledge him. She repeated the melody again, still so immensely focused, trying so hard to prolong ridding herself of the elephant in the room. By the time he called her name over and over, she was already altering the composition, adding her own twist to the concoction. By this point, Brian had stood up from his seat and gulped loudly, trying not to pull his hair out from the overwhelming frustration. If he wouldn’t acknowledge him calling her name, there was one last resort he could think of. 

The word came out before Brian could stop himself. 

“Muse, I need you to listen to me.”

The familiar name made her fingers pause in their tracks, the room returning back to its previous deafening silence; a shot ran through Brian’s spine as he bit his tongue, mentally reprimanding himself for being so careless; tonight was supposed to be about moving on and finding closure, yet here he was, recalling past nicknames in a nonchalant manner as if it meant barely anything to either of them. On truth, it could never be more opposite. The name meant everything to him; he wasn’t sure how much it meant to her. 

Judging from how tense she’d become and the utter incapability of a single movement since he called her his muse, it meant more to her too – at least, more than Brian would allow himself to believe.

“We – we need to talk.”

“I’m here to help you write,” she retorted, breathing in deeply as she turned to face him; she met his gaze without blinking, gripping the notes tightly in the palm of her hand, conjuring electricity around her to the point where he felt damn near suffocated; Brian resisted the urge to grab a pen and write, a urge that he hadn’t felt in a long time. The inspiration was hitting him like bolts of lightning, and the time lost keeping his words inside for so long was rapidly catching up to him, his feelings so desperately wanting to be articulated on paper.

“This is how you can help me.”

“No, no it isn’t. It’s a waste to talk about it; you’re better off writing the words down. I’m here to help you with that.”

“You’re here so I can find closure. This is why we need to – “

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Look, it’s best for us if we want to move past this – “ 

“Well, I have moved past it,” she interjected, and Brian felt his already shattered heart be stomped into the ground. The words were said with so much ease, so much nonchalance; the absence of care in her voice broke him. “I’ve moved past you a long time ago, Younghyun. I’m over everything we’ve had. So we don’t need to – “

“Well, I’m not fucking over it.” An overwhelming feeling overcame Brian within the spur of the moment, and he couldn’t pinpoint what it was, unsure of any of the emotions that he was articulating; it was a mixture of everything – anger, disappointment, utter fucking heartbreak – and it caused tears to well up in his eyes and his breath to hitch in his throat. He wasn’t sure how to keep the feelings buried now; it had been so long since he’d felt so much, all at once, that there was nothing left he could do but let the words unsaid be spoken. 

“I’m not fucking over it – I’m not fucking over you. And how can I be? You walked out the door, you left me behind, and you took my words with you. You left me hollow, Muse. You left me vacant and lost and emotionless because I fucking forgot how to feel. I forgot how to feel without you. I know you went through a lot – I know you’ve been through a lot, and I can’t – for fuck’s sake, I can’t hold you against that – but you owe me this. You goddamn owe me at least this. Even if I have my words back, I can’t have them be centred around you anymore. I need to let go, Muse. I have to try.”

The deafening silence came again. The songwriter kept her head bowed down, refusing to meet his eyes – refusing to acknowledge the tears that had welled up and streamed down his cheeks as he listened to himself go against everything he wanted, everything he wished for. 

He couldn’t move on. He didn’t want to move on. All he wanted was to feel the static spread through his very being as he held her in his arms while she hummed into his ear, allowing him the privilege of listening to the most beautiful sound in the world. He longed for that sense of captivation again – to be able to have her be the centre of his attention, with his focus on nothing but her, and not to feel so fucking guilty from the sheer enjoyment of being with her and knowing nothing but her. 

He missed her. Her missed her so, so much. And there was nothing he could do about it. 

“Don’t call me that.” Her words jolted him back to reality, the familiar shot running through his spine at the sound of her voice that came out in barely a whisper, thought the effects remained the same. She held his gaze this time, fingers still curled around the music sheets, heart still beating a mile a minute, though Brian couldn’t possibly know that. 

“Don’t call you –“   
“Don’t call me that – that name.”  
“I didn’t mean – “  
“Just don’t. We’ve moved past that, and I – I hate it now. Just don’t, please.”

If she sounded desperate, it’s perhaps because she was. At the very least, she was nervous, even she had to admit that to herself; she wasn’t sure of what, but the thundering of her own heartbeat was not lost upon her. It could be the boy in front of her; it could be the tension of the moment; it could be that name – that fucking name – that reminded her of a time she wanted to forget. She needed to forget. In order to remain secure, in order to remain safe. She couldn’t go back to the person she was when she was with Brian – that version of herself was a ghost she had to bury, for more reasons than one. 

“I’ll talk,” she conceded, sighing as she made her way over to another ghost she had to bury, placing herself down on the couch next to him. She gave him a smile that seemed a little too forced, trying best to conceal the trepidation that refused to dissipate. She felt the electricity in the room triple fold, as she always did around him, from the moment she first walked through the door and into that very room. 

She may be the spark, but Brian was always the source that ignited her flame. 

“I’ll talk, but we can’t reminisce on the past. On all the best memories. Those don’t matter anymore,” she reasoned, and Brian gave a small smile before he sighed, resting his head against the wall behind him. He looked over his shoulder and spotted his black beauty, and all the songs he’d written on it with her. For her. The very instrument was an embodiment of all their memories in itself – how could something so beautiful possibly not matter? 

“Maybe to you they don’t,” Brian whispered, the small smile still tugging on his lips. He fought the urge to resist more tears from flowing; she hated emotion, she hated articulation. The fact that she hadn’t walked out of the room after seeing him cry was a miracle in itself. He had to thread lightly; he didn’t have many of those left. “But alright, we won’t talk about the good memories. We’re just here to find to answer the questions left unsaid.”

She nodded solemnly, and Brian closed his eyes and took a breath, trying to conjure all the words he’d kept inside for so long. He felt the energy pulsating in the room, embracing the shocks that continued to course through him, all the memories of their relationship running through his head like a montage. He bit his lip as the bitter ones start crossing his mind, from the moment he first found out of her pain to the very end when she turned her back on him. All the words he couldn’t get out then, he could finally say them aloud now. There were so, so many words unsaid that needed to be spoken. 

And yet there was one elephant in the room he so desperately needed to address before anything else. The one that had been gnawing at the back of his mind since his eyes first landed on the sparkling diamond resting on her finger. 

“So, how did Finn propose?”


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It has been some time, I apologise. Please leave any comments you may have below ❤️

Brian had only met Finn once, and even then it was unplanned.

It was a number of days after he reached the peak of his musical trajectory, just a few months into his relationship with the girl of his dreams. To Brian, that night was expected to be just like all the nights prior; they would write songs, create music that encapsulated their souls, and seek solace in each other’s electrifying presence, concocting secrets best kept in the dark. 

And at the start, that was exactly what it was. 

Brian sat in the darkness on the familiar couch, just a few metres apart from his muse, listening to her sing as she strummed his black beauty in her arms; he couldn’t see anything without light, barely able to recognise her silhouette without sight, but the most beautiful sound in the world was enough to make note of her presence. He leaned his head back as she continued to make music in his ears, letting his hand drift in the dark to reach for her hair, ruffling the top of her head endearingly as soon as he found her. She groaned in protest, feigning infuriation at him for interrupting her, but even in the dark Brian could make out the smile on her face. He grinned as he felt his thundering heart start to slow down, basking himself in the moment of pure calmness and ecstasy. He loved this; he loved her. If the memories he wrote on paper could forever be his reality, he would never stop writing of moments like these; moments when he is reminded of his love for her voice, and her presence, and simply just her. His favourite muse.

The thundering in his heart had started to calm down. But the storm had only come knocking a few moments later, and this one was very clearly uninvited. 

The sound of fist thumping against the door made Brian jolt back to reality in surprise, not expecting a visitor so late into the night. He turned towards his muse, who was already placing the guitar back in its initial place. Brian was nervous and baffled; no one was supposed to know they were together – no one was supposed to know she was even here. He gulped, wondering who could possibly be on the other side. His bandmates? His producer? They knew he was here, and he had heavily implied that he would be having company, though he never said who outright. They were in the know about the two though – it shouldn’t take them half a brain to realise who he’d be spending the night with. But if it isn’t them, then who was it?

“Who could that be –“

“Don’t worry. I know who it is,” she answered. She stood up to turn the lights back on in the studio, and Brian was even more confused watching the girl he loved remain in complete ease, walking to the door with so much nonchalance. It was clear she knew who the person at the door on the other side of the door was, though she seemed to insist keeping Brian in the dark regardless. She opened the door then, a delicate smile plastered on her face – not quite like the one he’s used to, but more exaggerated.. So much more innocent than reckless. So much more welcoming than mysterious. So much more forceful than necessary. 

“Hey, why are you here – “

“I was looking for you. Why are you still working so late?”

Footsteps made their way into the room, and Brian stood upright to greet the newfound stranger. He was roughly Brian’s age, slightly shorter, but had a smile almost as forceful as the one featured on the beauty behind him, whose eyes widened in shock with the stranger’s sudden presence inside the room. It wasn’t something she expected, quite clearly – or perhaps it wasn’t something she would ever think to prepare for. The two most important men in her life were, for the first time, in the same room – and they had no clue as to who the other was. 

 

They had no clue as to how much the other meant to her. 

Brian kept his gaze on the boy in front of him, but that didn’t stop him from noticing how tense the source of static in the room had grown. The room appeared dimmer in the blinding lights; the electricity fading out with every passing second. He believed it was because of the sudden third person in the room – the unwelcomed guest he’d never met. They kept silent, the man keeping his gaze on Brian just as much as the latter was, waiting for the muse to introduce them to each other. But she never did. She kept her own silence, and Brian averted his gaze for a moment to notice the gradual discomfort building in her eyes. She was fidgeting in place, her eyes moving between them. She met Brian’s gaze then, biting her lip and motioning to the man with an apologetic look on her face. 

She didn’t want him here. Just as much as Brian didn’t either. But if she couldn’t show him out, then he would have to. 

“She’s in a writing session,” Brian spoke, answering the question met with silence before. He smiled, not wanting to appear unfriendly; even if he didn’t like the tension this guy brought, he still had no idea who he was; there was no reason to resent him – yet. “I’m Kang Brian, and we’re just working on a new song for my band’s album. Who are you, exactly?” 

The man grinned, a little too wide for Brian’s liking – a gesture of warmth that only made him all the more uncomfortable. He waited for an answer that never came; the guy simply turned towards his muse, who kept a nonchalant expression on her face as best she could. He gestures towards Brian, and the latter could still sense the growing smile on the other man’s face, even if he couldn’t directly see it in his line of sight.

“So, this is Brian,” he spoke, and Brian felt the pulsing electricity fade drastically within him as he heard the man mention his name. He kept his eyes on his muse, kept trying to conjure back the very sparks that gave him the confidence and strength he needed.

She kept her gaze on the man, not glancing at Brian once.

“It was unnecessary to show up here, Finn. I’m working.” 

“Your parents were worried about you. I only did my part to make sure you weren’t finding –“

Finn stopped, glancing back at Brian with that same smile. “ – trouble.” 

She rolled her eyes, taking a step towards Finn – Brian still had no clue as to how they knew each other or what Finn even was to his muse – but he wasn’t enjoying their proximity, or how non-foreign their interactions seemed to be. She’d never mentioned him, not once – yet it seems they are closer than close; definitely more than mere acquaintances. At the very least, close friends. Brian watched as his muse lifted her hand and pulled Finn’s chin away from Brian and towards her so they could face each other, without even a moment of hesitation. She gave the unwelcome guest a smile, and Brian felt a pang in his heart he’d never felt before.

Brian wasn’t sure what it was he felt. Jealousy, confusion, shock; they seemed to jumble together in his head, like a thunder cloud passing him by. The lightning in the room that had previously calmed began to thunder, but this time Brian was not the one under the pouring rain.

And perhaps that imagery in itself made him feel a single emotion more intensely above the rest – more than anything, as he watched their close proximity, her faint whispers that he couldn’t begin to decipher, the lingering smile that seemed to never fade from the each of their lips – Brian felt sad. 

He was sad that he hadn’t a clue who this guy was. He was sad that this guy knew perfectly well who he was. He felt sad that despite convincing himself he knew so much of his muse, he truthfully knew little to nothing. He only knew of the most beautiful sound in the world, and the captivating storm that came with it. Perhaps he never would know anything more.

Not knowing anything about her; it was the first sign of danger that Brian unfortunately ignored.

“Younghyun – “

The sound of her voice sent sparks down his spine, jolting him back to reality. He lifted his head up to meet her eyes; the two were standing farther apart now, though the muse seemed much more comfortable than before. She smiled ever so delicately, walking towards him and placing a hand on his shoulder. It was then the stranger made his way over the couch, and Brian’s gaze followed Finn’s movements only to find him picking up her bag. Brian bit his lip, and kept his eye on the couch, unable to comprehend she was actually leaving –

His muse grabbed his chin in her hands and pulled it towards her, just so they could face each other. 

It was then Brian noticed their close proximity, and his heart thundered in his chest as it always did whenever she was close, that sudden jolt of electricity shocking him as it coursed through his veins. The feeling was familiar; the feeling was addictive. 

But it was different this time. Even with the lack of distance between them and her gorgeous smile captivating him, Brian couldn’t feel the electricity. He couldn’t sense the random jolt of sparks that passed through his spine. The electricity in the room that seemed to remain treacherous that night was gone again, and he could no longer feel even a slight jolt of its presence. 

The spark in the room had gone. And he didn’t know why. 

Brian wanted to tell her; he wanted to tell her right there and then. Something was wrong; something must be wrong. He wasn’t sure if it was himself, or her, or the unwelcome stranger in the room. But there had to be a cause for the sudden absence of sparks in the atmosphere. For the sudden – hollow presence that encapsulated the room. There simply had to be.

Brian opened his mouth to speak, but he realised what was wrong before the question even left his lips. 

“I have to go now, Brian. I am – “

It was as crystal clear from the moment it was first seen. He simply hadn’t noticed it due to the thunder cloud that passed him by. 

“- really sorry. Apparently, something important came up and I have to – “

How could he have not noticed? He should’ve noticed. He should’ve known he’d been right about the palpable tension in the room.

“ – I’ll see you another time, perhaps. Goodnight, Brian.”

Brian. She kept calling him Brian. She’d never called him Brian even once before – but even that wasn’t the most daunting realisation to hit him.  
The smile. The oh-so-delicate smile that never left her face from the moment she exchanged whispers with the unwelcome guest in the room. He’d seen her smile so many times; he’d been captivated by the sight itself at every given moment. But never once, never once, had he seen her give such an insincere one directly in front of him. Directly to him.

The static in the room had left because she herself took it away. She didn’t want to follow Finn; she didn’t want to leave. 

“You should stay,” Brian blurted, a sense of desperation in his tone. He reached out and gripped her hand in his, ignoring the absence of sparks flying between them. All he cared about right then was making sure she didn’t leave. “It can’t be that important this late at night – “ 

“It is important.” Brian turned to the source of the interjection, who now had her bag slung over his shoulder as he kept his hands in his pockets, peering his eyes at Brian. He moved forward then, before standing directly next to the girl, all the while keeping his gaze on the former. “Of course, you wouldn’t know anything about it, would you?”

It was a low blow, Brian knew. Even so, the words hurt him more than he cared to admit.

“Muse, you don’t have to leave,” Brian whispered, attempting to find reason with the girl herself. She kept silent as she stared at him, perplexed by what his intentions really were. Perhaps she knew he knew she wanted to stay; perhaps he was reading too much into things because he herself didn’t want her gone. It didn’t matter, anyway; she just had to be willing to stay.

All she had to do was admit she was willing to stay.

But she never did. Instead, she loosened his grip on her hand and gave him another insincere smile, before turning her back towards him. She took her bag rather forcefully from Finn, before heading towards the door. She placed her hand on the knob, pausing momentarily to turn back and flash him that same insincere smile that sucked all the static out of the room, before uttering the name he hated most from the most beautiful sound in the world.

“Goodnight, Brian.”

Without another pause, she opened the door and left the studio, leaving only Brian and Finn within the confined space. The latter turned to Brian, giving him a winning smile, as if she had just picked one over the other. Brian knew that wasn’t true; there was no battle, especially not for her. She was meant to be admired, not fought over. He had not lost her. He had not lost anything. 

Yet the hollow feeling in the room remained.

“It was a pleasure meeting you,” Finn spoke, and Brian so badly wanted to rid of the smug smile on his goddamn face. “We may see each other again, Kang Younghyun.”

Brian’s eyes widened, opening his mouth to try and utter a reply that never came. Instead, he watched silently as Finn walked out of the room and closed the door behind him, trailing after the muse that had walked ahead mere seconds ago. 

For the first time in a while – in a long, long while – Kang Brian was without words. He stayed stagnant in the exact position he had been left for second, even minutes, trying to comprehend what it was he was feeling. The stagnancy, the lack of static, the emptiness – it was all a little too foreign. He wasn’t sure how to react; he just knew he felt lost, and there was no inspiration, no words willing to be put on paper to create a lyrical masterpiece.

A storm had come knocking on his door in the form of an unwelcome guest who had taken his muse away from him, but that was not all. The storm had taken his lightning, his static, and even the words he could conjure on paper. The minute they walked out the door, he was abandoned with nothing left. There was nothing left; not even the pouring rain.

That was the first time Kang Brian had truly felt hollow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ask me questions on:
> 
> curiouscat.me/endlesskyh
> 
> Find more of my work on twitter:
> 
> @/endlesskyh
> 
> Thank you for reading❤️

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on twitter: @/endlesskyh 
> 
> Comment below with your feedback please! Thank you for reading ♡


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